## Chapter 154: The Significance of a New Invention
The young man named William frowned as he listened to Arthur reciting the poem, “Why haven’t I heard this poem before? Which Cambridge scholar wrote it?”
Arthur feigned surprise, “You don’t know this famous poem? It was written by a Cambridge poet named Xu.”
Elder chimed in, “That’s right. As a lover of literature, you wouldn’t have missed this poem, right? You even said you won the Cambridge Poetry Prize. Does the Cambridge Prize only require this level of knowledge?”
William, flustered by their questioning, stammered, “Is… is that so?”
Another young man named Alfred stepped forward, trying to smooth things over. He apologized to Arthur and Elder, “Gentlemen, while I haven’t heard of this poem, the content suggests its author possesses a high level of romantic lyricism.”
William, hearing even his companion compliment the poem, felt completely lost.
After all, Alfred, though young, was not only the winner of the Cambridge University Poetry Prize, but also had a certain reputation in the field of poetry throughout Great Britain.
If Alfred approved, then the poem, if not excellent, was certainly not bad.
But he was still unwilling to concede so easily. The arrogance of youth still supported him as he straightened his back and said, “I admit the poem is good, but compared to Alfred’s ‘Timbuktu,’ it still has a long way to go.”
“Timbuktu?” Elder frowned at the mention of the name. Though he appeared nonchalant, he did occasionally pay attention to the literary circle, besides reading tabloid stories.
He asked, “You’re Alfred Tennyson of Cambridge?”
Tennyson blushed and nodded, “Have you read my poems?”
Elder scoffed, “I’ve seen them by accident.”
“Seen them by accident?” William, hearing this, was furious. “Sir, what do you mean by that?”
Elder shrugged, looking smug, “Nothing, I just think that in terms of literature, everyone has their own opinion. I think ‘Timbuktu’ is well-written, but only just that. In a way, I feel it’s even less emotionally impactful than the poem just now… uh… Arthur, what was that poem called again?”
Arthur glanced at the kid. He didn’t want to answer, but then he noticed Elder winking at him.
Seeing his friend’s act, he knew he had to compete with these two Cambridge lads today.
Arthur sighed, “The poem is called ‘Farewell to Cambridge’.”
“Right, that’s right, ‘Farewell to Cambridge’! From the perspective of a serious and respectable literary critic, I think ‘Timbuktu’ is inferior to ‘Farewell to Cambridge’!”
William was enraged by Elder’s provocative tone. He suppressed his anger and asked, “Literary critic? May I ask your name and your works in the literary field?”
Elder responded, “I am Elder Carter, professional critic, I disdain to create works.”
William was almost amused by his answer, “Kid, so you haven’t written anything, yet you question Alfred’s poetry?”
Elder seized the opportunity to retort, “So what about you? Who are you, and what works do you have in the literary field?”
“Me?” William was initially aggressive, but Elder’s question made his cheeks flush red. He hesitated for a moment before saying, “My name is William Thackeray. I just love literature and have written some things, but… but they’re not very famous…”
Hearing this, Elder seized upon it as a chance to win. He mocked him mercilessly, “So you’re also a nobody? Since you think that to comment on poetry, one must have status and works, isn’t your opinion also insignificant?”
William Thackeray wanted to retort, but he didn’t know how to respond.
In a fit of anger, he clenched his fist tighter and tighter. Then, with a bang, Thackeray pushed open the shop door and ran out without looking back.
Seeing this, Tennyson rushed to apologize to Arthur and Elder, “I’m sorry, gentlemen, my friend has a complicated family situation, which makes him a bit volatile. Please don’t mind him, he’s really a good person.”
He then, without bothering to choose any instruments for his speech, rushed out after him, “William! Wait for me!”
Elder snorted in triumph, “Look at that, that’s Cambridge education for you.”
But he waited for a long time and didn’t get a response from Arthur. He turned around and saw Arthur staring at their departing backs with his chin in his hand.
Elder nudged Arthur, “What are you thinking about?”
Arthur pursed his lips, glanced at his friend, and said, “Elder, I want to congratulate you.”
“Congratulate me?” Elder grinned, “It’s nothing big, I just defeated a Cambridge guy.”
“No, I don’t mean it in that sense.”
Arthur said, “Offending Alexandre Dumas of France is enough to make you famous in history, and now you’ve added a British William Thackeray. I don’t know, in the distant future, how many world-famous works your name will appear in. Maybe you’ll become the archetype of villains worldwide.
Oh, by the way, I almost forgot, there’s also Charles, maybe in his book, you’ll be paired with a monkey illustration. First the monkey, then you.”
Elder was incredulous, “Arthur, you just love to scare me with this stuff. You said bald Charles will be a big shot in the future, and you said the one with the hat will be too. Now even these two Cambridge graduates, you give them such high praise. Is it that anyone, as long as they meet you, can become a big shot in the future?”
“No, how could that be?” Arthur smiled slightly, patted Elder on the shoulder, “Elder, isn’t there still you?”
“Tsk!” Elder rolled his eyes, “I’m not the archetype of all villains in the world you mentioned? How could I be unknown?”
“You’re right.” Arthur nodded, “Alexandre has already included you in his manuscript, Mr. Thackeray wouldn’t let you off so easily either.”
“Ah?! Alexandre included me?” Elder was furious, “No wonder he wouldn’t let me see his manuscript! I didn’t do anything to him! I’ve been taking him around London for the past few days! And then he turns around and does this to me?”
Arthur asked, “Are you sure you didn’t do anything to him?”
Elder, hearing this, replied nervously, “Now that you mention it, maybe… perhaps… probably… I mean, I did say something that upset him… but I didn’t mean to.”
“What did you say?”
Elder said, “He said he couldn’t understand why so many Britons were crammed into this small island. Whether they immigrated to France or America, they could live better. I said I agreed with him, and it would be beneficial to the world. Because every time someone immigrates from Britain to France or America, it raises the average intelligence level of all three countries slightly.”
As soon as Elder finished speaking, a low, muffled laugh came from under the shop counter.
Arthur heard the sound and couldn’t help but put a finger to his lips, “Shhh, be quiet.”
Arthur tiptoed to the counter, bent slightly, and his smiling face was directly opposite Charles Wheatstone’s, whose smile was more like a grimace.
Wheatstone’s lips were trembling, and he was holding a black suitcase. If Arthur had come a step later, he might not have been able to find this guy anymore.
Arthur took off his hat, extended his hand, and greeted him with a smile, “Mr. Wheatstone, long time no see.”
Wheatstone, trembling, took Arthur’s hand, “Black… Black Hastings, you… you really can’t let me go?”
“Let you go? No, what are you talking about? I just want to be friends with you and help you complete your new invention.”
Wheatstone sighed, leaned forward, but before he could climb out of the counter, he heard a faint sound coming from the suitcase he was holding. It was a series of flashes and thunder, followed by a familiar yet unfamiliar man’s voice.
“We are not thugs, nor are we accomplices. We are merely former shoemakers, blacksmiths, carpenters, stablemen, thatchers, assemblers, builders, bakers, and unemployed workers and landless farmers… Today, we will suppress a demonstration by the working class…”
Wheatstone, hearing this voice, immediately raised his hands in fright. He stammered, “Mr. Hastings, you… you listen to me, I really didn’t mean to record this. I just made this thing yesterday and was going to deliver it to your mansion, but when I passed by Wellington Arch… you… you’re not happy, I’ll destroy this thing now.”
Arthur looked at Wheatstone’s remorseful expression, remained silent for a moment, then smiled and tapped the suitcase with his knuckles, “The sound quality may be a little off for now, and some parts don’t sound very clear. But Mr. Wheatstone, I have to congratulate you, you’ve made a remarkable invention.”
Wheatstone was stunned by his words, “You… You don’t mind what’s recorded?”
“Mind, of course I mind. But…”
“But?” Wheatstone was startled, “Then I’ll smash it now!”
He was about to swing his fist to smash the suitcase, but found his arm was held tightly by Arthur.
Wheatstone was puzzled, “You?”
Arthur smiled and pulled him up from under the counter, brushing the dust off his clothes, “No need to smash it. You may not understand, perhaps recording this is also part of its invention.”
(End of Chapter)